The Bride He Forgot to Love

That's where my eyes drop to his watch on the table. My brows furrowed on the initials.

ET&OD.

Wow.

Elvie Thompson. Osmond Decker.

Their initials shimmered under the soft light of our living room, engraved on the leather strap of the gift I’d bought for Osmond—a customized smartwatch. It was supposed to be a surprise. Turns out, I was the one surprised.

I’d paid extra to have our initials—OD and CD—intertwined. I’d triple-checked the order form to make sure it was perfect. So why, of all things, were HER initials on it?

When I showed it to Osmond, he barely looked up from his phone. “It’s just a mistake, Camille,” he said, shrugging. “The store probably screwed up. No big deal.”

“No big deal?” I repeated, staring at him. “Osmond, they engraved *her initials.* How does that even happen?”

He sighed like I was being difficult, finally setting his phone down. “I don’t know. Maybe someone else’s order got mixed up with ours. I’ll deal with it.”

“When?” I pressed, folding my arms. “Because this isn’t just some random mix-up. You need to—”

“Camille, you’re making this into a thing,” he said, cutting me off as he stood up. “It’s a watch. Just drop it, okay?”

Before I could respond, he reached over and snatched the watch out of my hand. “You’re just going to overthink this,” he muttered.

“Osmond—”

He grabbed his coat from the chair, brushing past me. “I’m heading out. Got patrols tonight. Don’t wait up.”

The door clicked shut before I could say anything else. I stood there holding the watch, my stomach in knots. A mistake. That’s all he said it was. But it didn’t feel like one.

As soon as I heard his car pull away, I grabbed my phone and dialed the shop’s number.

“Thank you for calling Elite Engravings,” a cheery voice answered. “How can I assist you today?”

“Hi, I ordered a customized smartwatch from you recently, but there’s been a mistake with the engraving. It has the wrong initials.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that! Let me look into it for you. Can I have your order number?”

I rattled it off, pacing the room.

“Hmm,” the woman said after a few seconds. “According to our records, the initials were updated per the customer’s request before production.”

My heart dropped. “Updated? What?”

“Actually, I can pull the security footage if you’d like confirmation.”

I swallowed hard. “Please do. And send it to my email.”

A few minutes later, the video arrived. With shaky hands, I opened it.

There they were—Osmond and Elvie, standing at the counter, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world. Elvie was the one who spoke to the clerk, pointing at the screen to show the initials she wanted. Osmond stood beside her, his hand casually on her lower back.

The realization hit like a punch to the gut. My gift—the watch I’d spent weeks planning—had been thrown away. Osmond didn’t care. He’d let Elvie replace it like it was nothing.

I sank onto the couch, the room spinning around me. It wasn’t just a mistake. It was a choice.

***

The next morning, I decided to focus on something else. It was supposed to be a big day—my bridal fitting. Osmond had promised to come, but I already knew he wouldn’t.

As I stepped outside, a familiar black SUV pulled up in front of the house. Osmond rolled down the window, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“What’s with the makeup?” he asked, his tone flat. “You don’t usually wear that much.”

I clenched my fists, forcing a smile. “I’m going to the bridal shop.”

“Good,” he said, motioning to the passenger seat. “Get in. I’ll take you.”

Reluctantly, I opened the door—and froze. Sitting in the passenger seat, looking far too comfortable, was Elvie.

“Hey, Camille!” she said brightly, flashing a cheerful smile. “Osmond invited me along. Hope you don’t mind!”

“Why are you here?” I asked, my voice tight.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said with a breezy laugh. “I’m just here to help. You know how clueless Osmond can be about these things. Someone’s gotta make sure he doesn’t ruin your big day!”

I turned to Osmond, searching for an explanation. He just shrugged. “Elvie knows more about this stuff than I do. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to have her tag along.”

My jaw clenched, but I climbed into the back seat anyway. My hands trembled as I buckled my seatbelt, the tension in the car so thick it was suffocating.

Elvie and Osmond chatted like old friends, laughing and joking like I wasn’t even there.

“Oh, this song,” Elvie groaned when a familiar tune came on the radio. “Ugh, next it. This one’s so ugly.”

Osmond reached for the controls, but I stopped him. “That’s my favorite song.”

Elvie turned around, her face full of fake pity. “Really? It’s so… old-fashioned. Don’t you think, Osmond?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it’s not exactly trendy.”

My chest tightened. Just months ago, he told me this song reminded him of us. Now, it was just something else for them to mock.

Elvie changed the station to a loud pop song that made my head throb. “Much better, right?” she said, smiling.

I looked at Osmond through the rearview mirror, hoping for some acknowledgment of how I felt. But his face gave nothing away.

Derick frowned, clearly annoyed. “What’s your fucking deal? You’re mad over a song again?”